"Nobody thought anything about it. The servants brought the wine; everybody did just as he pleased about taking it."
"What did you have to eat, Lois, with so much to drink?" asked her elder sister.
"More than I can tell, Charity. There must have been a dozen large dishes, at each end of the table, besides the soup and the fish; and no end of smaller dishes."
"For a dozen people!" cried Charity.
"I suppose it's because I don't know anythin'," said Mr. Hotchkiss,—"but I always du hate to see a whole lot o' things before me more'n I can eat!"
"It's downright wicked waste, that's what I call it," said Mrs. Marx; "but I s'pose that's because I don't know anythin'."
"And you like that sort o' way better 'n this 'n?" inquired uncle Tim of Lois.
"I said no more than that it was prettier, uncle Tim."
"But du ye?"
Lois's eye met involuntarily Mrs. Barclay's for an instant, and she smiled.